


He Was Your Babysitter?!

by CrimsonRoseBlooms



Series: Our Nine Years [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Antonio Cooks, Bad Touch Trio | Bad Friend Trio, Brothers North Italy & South Italy (Hetalia), I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Lovino Writes, M/M, Old Friends, Restaurants, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28486011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonRoseBlooms/pseuds/CrimsonRoseBlooms
Summary: Continuation of How to Babysit Lovino Vargas!It's been nine years since Lovino was back in town. Though he claims to be a completely new person with no recollection of his childhood in Italy, a few characters reappear in his life to help him remember - one of them being his ex-babysitter and friend, Antonio.What lengths will Antonio go to make Lovino remember? Or will Lovino try to get rid of him just like he did the past? And more importantly, will he fall in love with his ex-babysitter?
Relationships: Austria/Prussia (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia), South Italy/Spain (Hetalia)
Series: Our Nine Years [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/971049
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	1. Prologue

When Lovino saw Feliciano sat next to the headteacher, he knew it was bad. His younger brother was never in trouble, unless he was the victim. And both of them had been called. The headteacher even had a firm grip on Feliciano’s shoulder in a protective stance. Lovino stared at her ring, refracting light on her left ring finger. It was difficult to imagine his awful headteacher as a wife, much less a mother. But she must have a family, one of those perfect even-numbered, gender-balanced textbook families.

“Lovino.”

She stretched her other hand towards him and pulled him close, almost in an embrace. Lovino felt so uncomfortable that he remained rigid, creating as much space between them as possible. Seriously, what was going on?

“It’s your grandfather,” she breathed out.

Lovino knew that tone. He knew that line. People on those awful soaps would always say it.

“What’s wrong with Nonno?” Feliciano asked lightly.

Don't ask that, he wanted to bark at him.

“He –”

Lovino didn’t want to hear it. He tried to shove her away but the headteacher’s grip was unyielding.

“On his way to work, he had a stroke. They… They couldn’t save him.”

Lovino didn’t know what a stroke was. He’d seen the word plastered on the wall outside the nurse’s room before. Now he wished that he had taken the time to look it up or ask about it instead of storming past it. All he knew was that it couldn’t be a good thing. Even Feliciano could sense it. There was a look of terror on his brother's face. 

“I’m so sorry.”

She spoke as if she played a part in it, as if she had seen it with her own two eyes. Lovino stared at her ring again. There was no diamond on it, just a silver band. Had she settled for such simplicity?

“What… What does that…? I want to see Nonno!” Feliciano wailed, shamelessly letting his misery echo down the corridor.

The headteacher fruitlessly tried to hush him, cradling his small frame. She had completely neglected Lovino at this point. Thank God, he thought. Instead he grasped his brother’s hand steadily. It was for moments like these that his Nonno had trained him. He could barely feel the surge of emotion swallowing him up whole. 

It felt like a chore to say to Feliciano: “Nonno’s gone, like Mama. And Papa.”

Then tiny Feliciano was inconsolable. He let out such a pitiful sob that teachers left their classrooms to investigate, each of them circling him like he was some art-piece at an exhibit. Like that would actually help.

Lovino tugged at the headteacher’s sleeve.

“What happens now?”

The woman blinked away her tears. Lovino could see her examining him from behind those soaked lashes. Her eyes grew hard when she noticed that his cheeks were dry.

“Your cousin Roderich is on his way to the hospital, then he'll come by to pick you up. He’ll be your guardian from now on.”

Although he had never heard the name Roderich in his life before, Lovino gave a curt nod. It was what it was.

“Lovino." The headmaster had no sympathy in her voice. "Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer.

“You know, it’s alright to cry. It might make you feel better.”

Crying is for babies. Be a man. It felt like she was egging him on but he wouldn't be baited.

So Lovino didn’t cry, he let Feliciano be babied instead.

Were they going to have to move out of their house? He thought. Roderich sounded like an old man’s name.

But when Roderich appeared at the office, Lovino was proven wrong. He was barely a man - his skin still glowing of youth, but eyes aged from what he had witnessed. He spoke in hushed tones to the headteacher while Feliciano hiccupped beside him. Lovino's hand was getting sweaty from how long he had been holding onto him.

“L-Lovi… What do we do?”

He hated that he was expected to answer. He had no answers. He had no comforting words.

“Lovi?”

“I don’t know, Feli.”

That brought his brother to the brink of tears again. “I want to see Nonno. I miss Nonno.”

Lovino clenched his fist. 

_As if he didn't miss him._

“Lovi, I’m scared.”

“I know.”

“Lovi, I –”

Roderich approached them and Lovino instinctively stepped forward.

“So you two are my distant cousins,” he began solemnly. He dropped down to one knee so he could look them in the eye. Lovino noted that he didn't have a single Vargas trait about him. 

“I’m sorry we had to meet this way. My name is Roderich Edelstein.”

Lovino glared at him. That was something off about him. He could feel it.

Roderich immediately turned away from him. “And you are?”

“F-Feliciano," the boy answered shyly, "Hello."

He nodded. “It’s nice to meet you. And this is your brother -?”

“Where are you going to take us?” Lovino asked fiercely.

Roderich seemed taken aback but he replied, “To your grandfather’s house. There’s quite a lot to do, but we should get you home first. I'm sure you haven't eaten yet.”

And so, Roderich drove them home after thanking the teachers. (For what, Lovino would never know.) He fed them some terrible dishes he claimed to be a specialty, but they ate it without a word of complaint. Roderich got them into bed quickly and didn't even check if they were asleep. Feliciano had immediately passed out when his head hit the pillow, leaving Lovino to watch as Roderich barged into his Nonno’s bedroom, clearing it all out. It made him sick.

He couldn’t say he missed his Nonno already. It had only been several hours of separation but there was something else lingering in his chest, like somebody had stuffed cotton into him. Everything felt light and heavy at the same time.

  
~

Lovino told himself he was a grown up now. He was the oldest Vargas now therefore he had to mature quickly.

“Lovino, what is this?” Roderich scowled, holding up the shattered remains of a plate. Lovino didn’t even blink.

“I was doing the washing.”

“This is the fifth plate you’ve broken this week.” He took his time taking a deep breath in and then letting it out, making it more dramatic than it needed to be. Roderich always acted like this, like a prima donna, as if the stage would fall apart if he didn’t act in the way that he did.

“Are you deliberately making Feliciano do the work for you?”

Lovino snarled.

“Big brother Roderich, it’s alright!” Feliciano piped up warmly, “I like cleaning anyway. Lovi can do the laundry instead. He’s very quick and he’s taller.”

Roderich let out a fond smile at the younger Vargas brother. “You’re such a good boy, Feliciano. Alright then.”

And the issue was solved.

It had been like this since their Nonno’s funeral. Roderich made them maintain the house, like an evil stepmother in Lovino’s eyes. It was strange how their childhood home was now a hellhole. He’d come home from school, clean up, start cooking and bathe. Everything was uniform.

What was even worse was Feliciano’s excellence. Roderich had grown affectionate towards Feliciano, like everybody else really. He liked him so much that he was teaching him music while Lovino rotted in a corner. He had talent; Lovino had trouble.

It wasn’t anything new. Lovino was just starting to get tired of it was all.

“Lovino.”

He groaned.

“I have a teaching job in the next town over,” Roderich began calmly, observing Lovino’s reactions like he was a chemistry experiment. “I’ll be gone every weekend.”

“Okay?”

“I can’t leave you two in the house alone. You’re both too young - Feliciano especially.” He coughed and Lovino immediately felt some impending doom. He could read Roderich easily now; the way his eyes were drawn together. “I’m going to drop you off at a babysitter’s for the upcoming weeks.”

“A babysitter?” he frowned. And then, “What about Feli?”

“I’ll be taking him with me. He can do his studying there and whatnot and you can study with your babysitter. He’s still too young to be dropped off with a stranger.”

The word ‘babysitter’ was already triggering him. What part about him was babyish? Why did he need somebody to look after him? He could stay in this house alone.

“Too young? Feli’s only two years younger than me.”

“But you’re a big boy, almost ten,” Roderich shrugged, “You’re so independent already, there’s nothing to teach you. I think getting to know more people will be good for you. And you know how Feliciano is. He’s so… timid. It’ll be good for you. You won’t need to look after him.”

Lovino was narrowing his eyes at him.

First, he wanted to tear him away from his house. Now, he wanted to take his brother away. What was he trying to achieve?

All the anger that had built up inside him was growing out of control, transforming into a monster of resentment. He could taste metal.

“You’ll like him. He’s… nice.”

“What does that mean?” he spat.

Roderich gave him a look. “You’ll see.”

And sure enough, the next day Roderich drove them to the other side of the town where the houses were more like mansions. Feliciano was humming excitedly about meeting other children at choir or singing tuition or whatever it was. Lovino didn’t care. Lovino felt betrayed.

They stopped in front of a luxurious house, the entire block of it was like a square of white. Whoever lived in such a fancy place must be a pompous ass, Lovino thought. Nobody else could stay in such a spotless place.

“Alright, Lovino. Come with me,” Roderich instructed as he switched off the ignition.

“Bye Lovi! Oh, this weekend will be so much fun. I just know it. Enjoy yourself,” Feliciano grinned with such glee that Lovino couldn’t get angry at him. He just smiled softly and nodded.

“Remember your manners,” reminded Roderich as if that would help a nine-year-old with anything.

Lovino rolled his eyes.

Then he rang the doorbell.

Even the doorstep felt unreal. It was glossy marble and there were potted plants on either side, stretching upwards. Lovino inspected the plants closely. They didn’t have a single blemish, not a tear on the leaf or a bug crawling on it. Out of spite, he pinched one of the leaves.

Roderich was about to scold him but the pristine white door swung open, revealing a beaming sun-kissed teenager. His hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in days, sticking out at all angles and curling inwards.

“Hello!”

“Um, hello,” Roderich muttered, “Are you… Antonio?”

“That’s me,” he grinned.

Lovino already found this guy annoying.

“I’m Roderich. I’m sure you have all the details?”

“Yup, babysitting during the weekends. No allergies, no issues. And it’s going to be paid, right?”

“I’ll pay you when I come to collect Lovino, hopefully in one piece,” he muttered offhandedly, then he pulled Lovino in front of the doorway. “This is Lovino Vargas. He’s nine years old. If you have any problems, just give me a call.”

“Okay dokay,” Antonio saluted and smiled down at Lovino. “Nice to meet you.”

Roderich gave them an uncertain look, wondering if he had make a mistake. But it was far too late to ponder on such hypothetical situations. He patted Lovino on the head.

“Be good.”

And then left.

“So, you wanna come in and play, Lovino?”

Lovino looked up at him, at his glowing face, his peppy personality, his general fakeness and sneered, “Fuck you.” Then he stormed into the house that would be his new cage.


	2. Chapter 2

He was forced to read while he waited.

‘Never give all the heart,’ the poem began. Though he never cared much for writing, he tried unloading the meaning word by word in hope that it would make time go faster.

Honestly, why do girls always do this? Do they think it’s attractive to be tardy? What about him, who arrived half an hour early to every date with his hair gelled perfectly and his Ralph Lauren shirt unwrinkled?

He sighed.

Maybe he should leave. If this girl didn’t show up in five minutes, he would count it as a bust. He would have just been that wildly artistic man who thoughtfully read Yeats by the window of a cafe... for a full hour... with only one cup of coffee.

The coffee shop wouldn’t chuck him out; he brought in the majority of their customers. He always brought girls here since the shop was never crowded, the atmosphere was lighter and more importantly, the coffee was cheap and refillable. The only reason it wasn’t busy was because of its obscure position away from the city centre and the university.

He really was considering leaving, despite his manners, when the bell jingled. He didn’t allow himself to look (that would appear desperate) and instead stared at the last line of the poem: ‘For he gave all his heart and lost.’

Damn right, he thought. He was always on the losing side.

Then he heard the voice.

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was awful.”

Despite his best efforts, his shoulders slumped in disappointment at the deep, husky voice. It wasn’t her.

He shut the book. Time to go.

But what if she arrived and ended up waiting fruitlessly for him? He groaned despite himself. He hated disappointing girls, even if they were a no-show.

He stuffed the weary book into his bag. He couldn’t be bothered acting intellectual if she wasn’t going to be punctual. He sipped his lukewarm coffee, the bitter taste dulled by its cooling, and scrolled through his phone. What was her name again? It began with a J… A unique name, very tropical.

“Sir?”

Jamaica? No, that was stupid. Besides, he only had one contract that began with a J, which was Jackass. And he was sure that wasn’t her.

“Excuse me.”

Could one call through a dating app? Was that socially acceptable?

There was a light nudge on his shoulder.

“What?” he snapped, glaring at the person who interrupted his flow of thought.

“Sorry, I wanted to ask if you wanted… a refill…”

The smile slipped from the waiter’s tanned face like an avalanche, recognition replacing the feigned hospitality. His eyes widened slowly, flashing bright emerald. It had not changed all that much since he had last seen his face.

“Lovi?”

All of a sudden, he was nine again. He was unwanted again. He was sweating, hallucinating, calling out to the one person he trusted. But he wasn’t within reach anymore.

He was alone.

“Romano, I’m so sorry! The bus was delayed, and I got stuck in traffic too. I hope you didn’t wait long… Romano?”

The name anchored him to reality. His date was here. Her lips were drawn into a thin line, making her look constantly anxious. He realised that she was worried about him. He was the one acting weird.

He quickly flashed her a kind smile.

“It’s alright. I was just about to leave. Shall we go find a restaurant?”

Romano pulled out a note and placed it on the table. Confidently, he looked into the server’s hopeful eyes. The nostalgia hit him again, but he forced it down and cleared his throat.

“Sorry, you must have mistaken me for somebody else. My name is Romano.”

Then he wrapped his hand around the girl’s, leading her away from the nice coffee shop he wouldn’t visit again, away from the memories he didn’t want to confront, away from the person he wasn’t anymore.

~

For the first time in a while, Romano left a date early. He didn’t even kiss her on the cheek, promise to call or walk her home; he wasn’t in the mood. He sauntered back to the halls with a migraine and collapsed onto his bed like a fallen tower.

He felt shit. Maybe if he got smashed right now he could forget it the ordeal. Was that how it worked?

It was a mistake to move here. He couldn’t say he never anticipated bumping into him. It was an achievement that he remained incognito for a whole year. It was like a part of him felt disappointed he hadn't bumped into Antonio. 

To be fair, he did change his name – no, not change. His name was Romano. Always has been. He is Romano.

~

He ended up sleeping in and missing his business lecture. It wasn’t like he was going to pay attention to some old man droning on and on about the economy and whatnot anyway. University was just a vehicle for adult life, fast forwarding away his youth until he was a corporate slave, then a lonely pensioner who paid his taxes for a room that was less than 400 square feet. Then he’d die.

So why try?

He did shower and make it in time for his Spanish tutorial though, where he sat there speaking fluently, discussing politics about a country he’d never been to. He imagined Spain to be a warm place, where everybody was always chattering away or took siestas when they felt they’d done enough.

Romano found that he was a chick magnet when he combined his Italian ancestry with his flowery Spanish. He could be cussing and the girls would still swoon, admiring his mother-tongue.

“Romano, you’re amazing. How did you have the time to learn Spanish while you were living in Vienna?”

He smiled charmingly, “I picked it up when I was younger instead of German. I can’t speak it at all.”

He also hated the sound of German, but he wasn’t going to tell them that. It sounded like spitting and growling to him. Spanish just felt more natural, that was all. Plus, he couldn’t really balance English, Italian, Spanish and German. There was a limit to his colourful vocabulary, and he needed to maintain his high standard vernacular.

“Um, hey.”

Oh god no.

In front of him, the server from yesterday was scratching the back of his curly-haired head. He had a bashful look on his face.

“We, erm, met yesterday?”

“…Yes.”

“Romano, who is he?” the girl on his right asked sceptically. She was already eyeing him up and Romano felt betrayed. He was right there. Sure, this guy had sun-kissed skin and a much sexier accent, but he _definitely_ didn’t have… Romano wasn’t sure what he had.

“I… don’t really know.”

“My name is Antonio. I just wanted to ask if you knew anybody by the name of Lovino Vargas. You just looked so alike, I –”

“Wow! Maybe they’re related,” the girl jumped in and Romano wanted to kill himself. “Romano’s surname is Vargas too.”

“Is it?” Antonio looked hopefully at him with dewy eyes.

“It’s a common Italian name,” he supplied quickly.

“Yes. You’re right. Of course,” Antonio dismissed, “But do you know anyone by the name Lovino?”

“No.”

He answered too fast. He could almost feel the perspiration on his neck. He took his time as he elaborated, “It’s an unusual name. I’m sure if I heard it once before I would have remembered.”

“What about Feliciano?”

The girl was about to speak again so Romano coughed audibly. “I’m sorry but I really don’t know you. And you’re asking for personal details. If you could excuse me –”

“No, please wait!”

Antonio had grabbed his shoulder. Romano’s breath hitched again at the contact. He realised how Antonio was taller than him. He had to tilt his head up slightly to see the desperation in his face.

“Just… I’ve been wanting to hear from this person for a long time. If you know anything…”

He had planned on shrugging off the hand on his shoulder and never see him again, but something compelled him to do otherwise. Maybe it was the expectant look on the girls’ faces, hoping that Romano was some superhero.

He sighed, “Let’s talk over there. Sorry girls. I’ll see you later.”

They seemed more than happy to leave him alone with the other man. They giggled and waved but remained in the exact same spot to spy on them. Romano couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Like I said before, I don’t know anybody called Lovino.”

But that wasn’t enough to hinder Antonio.

“He used to live here but then he moved to Vienna. I heard that you grew up in Vienna.”

“Heard?” Romano cocked a brow.

This was borderline stalking, wasn’t it? According to the student handbook he should be reporting this guy already.

“Some girls told me when I mentioned you.”

“Oh. Well. It’s a strange coincidence.”

“And you can speak Spanish?”

“I learnt it at school, so I took it up at uni. It’s a common language,” he exasperated and whirled around, “I’m sorry I really can’t help you.”

He looked at the emptiness in his face. He was completely disheartened. And even though Romano knew it was better this way, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. He couldn’t help but say, “If you know so much about this guy, you can look him up.”

He shook his head with a sigh. “I tried that. But he isn’t on social media. He already left his family too. Do you know what it’s like to have hope and then get it snatched from you the very last second?” He was staring pensively to the side.

“Well, I’m sorry.”

He began to take his leave.

“Wait!”

This time he let out a frustrated grunt as he turned back to the persistent dumbass.

“What?”

“I just… Thank you. For taking time to talk to me.” Antonio was nervously rubbing the back of his neck. He looked sheepish as he asked, “Could we, maybe… be friends?”

Romano could only stare at him.

There was nothing to understand about this man. He was so damn weird. Nothing made sense. Why would anybody, much less Romano, want to be friends with him? 

“It’s not because you look like Lovi, maybe partially. But I want to know you too, Romano,” he grinned, flashing his perfect row of teeth. “You’re a very nice person.”

As flattering and charming as Antion may be, Romano needed to reject it. But he must have just gaped blankly instead because Antonio carried on.

“Oh right, you don’t really know me,” he laughed lightly. The sound brought back days of video games and takeouts.

Romano let out a sigh of relief. At least he understood that much.

But before Romano could come up with the perfect response to drive him away, Antonio was whipping out his phone and rapidly typing things. He let out a satisfied “Done!” and beamed at Romano. “I’ve added you on Facebook: Romano Vargas. I’m Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo. I’m twenty-four and you know I work at the coffee shop. Oh! I know. How about you meet me at the coffee shop later and I could treat you to dinner? I know this great Italian place. I’ll message you the details.”

The bombardment of information had Romano confused. He couldn’t keep track anything coming out of Antonio’s mouth. But soon, his phone was in Antonio’s hands, unlocked and a new contact added.

“So I have to run back to my shift now but I’ll see you tonight. Have a nice day, Romano!”

And then Antonio dashed off to god-knows-where.

Romano still couldn’t believe what had just transpired. Not only had Antonio come barging into his life again but he had a date. He had a date with Antonio. And he didn’t know if he should be squealing for joy or thwacking his head off the concrete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I do have to apologise because it turns out I had written quite a lot of this fic already back when I was in high school? This means that the writing is cringe and I just can't NOT edit it. It's taking me a bit of time to read through the whole thing again and determine where I want this to go. What I can say is there will be steamy scenes, and also I rush a lot. A little disappointed that Lovi and Toni have met again already but I will make sure to pace it right! Look forward to hearing for you all!


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